


Two’s Company

by xslytherclawx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autistic Rolf Scamander, Bisexual Rolf Scamander, Canon Compliant, Gay Charlie Weasley, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Jewish Rolf Scamander, M/M, Magizoology (Harry Potter), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: Rolf doesn’t know what to do with himself. Two months on a research excursion with a leading dragonologist is fine.It’s less fine when that dragonologist is someone he fancied at Hogwarts.
Relationships: Rolf Scamander/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 17
Collections: Hermione's Nook Naked Weasley Fest!, xslytherclawx & thestias's harry potter multiverse, xslytherclawx's Prompt Collection, xslytherclawx's jewish fic, xslytherclawx’s events collection





	Two’s Company

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a million to Jess for helping me workshop this!

Rolf doesn’t know what to do with himself. Two months on a research excursion with a leading dragonologist is fine. It’s routine, even. He frequently works with magizoologists who have specialities different to his own. 

Except the leading dragonologist on the case is not, as anticipated, Felix Rosier.

He knows Felix. They’ve worked together before on multiple occasions. Felix isn’t a sociable person, but that suits Rolf just fine. Rolf is, at his core, an extrovert who thrives on contact with other humans, but when he’s working, he’s able to find plenty of things to distract him. And if he talks too much, Felix doesn’t seem to get annoyed.

Besides, Felix has a husband at home.

He’s perfectly polite and cordial to Rolf – and Rolf might even say they’re  _ friendly, _ at least if Felix can be described as “friendly” toward anyone – but there’s no temptation.

Research excursions, especially the sort that require only a small team in an isolated region, often end up with at least some of the people involved hooking up. It’s normal and natural, and Rolf’s partaken himself. He’s not immune to that sort of thing by far. But it’s usually with people with whom he can enjoy some sort of casual fuck and go.

Otherwise, it has a habit to blow up in one’s face.

Rolf can say with certainty, despite both of them being attracted to other men, he’s never had any urge to fuck Felix Rosier.

And it’s worked in both of their favour.

Rolf is used to routine. Even in a job like his, where every day is different, he likes to keep some things the same.

He can’t begrudge Felix his paternity leave, but  _ honestly. _

Now Rolf has to get used to a whole new person, who probably minds that he doesn’t like eye contact (or, when he forces himself to, he stares far too long). Or who gets annoyed when he goes off on tangents. Or who wants to accompany sex with light touches that make him want to crawl out of his skin (and not in a good way) – or worse, cuddle after.

Rolf considers himself a very open and friendly person, and he knows plenty of people  _ like _ him. He has a lot of friends, even; it’s not just Penny! But he knows that his quirks take a bit of getting used to, especially when he’s the only other person around for miles.

Which he will be this time.

He meets this new dragonologist at a tiny village miles upon miles from the wilderness where they’ll be working.

And the worst thing in the world isn’t that Rolf knows him; the wizarding world is small, and magizoology even still.

The worst part in the world is that it’s none other than Charlie Weasley: Quidditch star, prefect, and all around absolutely gorgeous and, apparently, lovely person.

And they’re going to spend two months essentially isolated together.

It’s going to take every ounce of his self-restraint not to act on this.

It only gets worse when Rolf introduces himself. Or, well, he tries to.

“You’re Rolf Scamander,” Charlie says with a grin, shaking his hand eagerly. “I remember you!”

In their fields, everyone knows Rolf’s name, so that’s not what’s surprising. Everyone knows Rolf’s grandfather.

He knows Charlie from school. Everyone knows Charlie.

He’s not alone in having been mad for him back then.

He thought Charlie had no idea he existed; he was gorgeous and popular and well-liked, and – well, Rolf was two years below him, and not popular by any meaning of the word.

“Really?” Rolf says doubtfully.

“Oh, of course! You were friends with Penny, too, weren’t you?”

“I – I was, yeah.” Truthfully, Charlie Weasley always had so many friends that Rolf never considered that he might notice who his friends were friends with. Now that he processes that thought consciously, he realises how stupid it was.

“If you and Penny got on, I’m sure we’ll get on, too,” Charlie says. 

Rolf finds it difficult to believe that Charlie doesn’t get on with everyone he meets, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he agrees quickly and starts talking logistics.

* * *

Rolf is no stranger to sleeping in tents, and neither is Charlie. Their tent is practical, but not cramped. There’s a bathroom, of course, and a bedroom with a set of bunk beds, and a living space that fulfils the functions of eating, researching, and relaxing at once.

Rolf’s certainly had worse.

Evidently, so has Charlie, because he makes no complaint once the tent is set up. He only asks Rolf if he wants the top or bottom bunk.

They’re two days into the excursion when Rolf notices that Charlie has, at some point, shed his shirt, despite the pleasant ambient temperature in the tent.

Rolf doesn’t ask. He knows better.

He does, however, sneak a glance at Charlie’s gorgeously freckled back when he’s not looking. He has so many freckles he nearly looks tan (he’s not, though; Rolf is tan  _ and _ he has freckles, too – but fewer than Charlie). Just as he’s admiring the broadness of Charlie’s shoulders and how his muscles ripple under his skin, Charlie turns around.

Right.

That’s enough of that.

They’re only two days in, after all; no one fucks this early.

After a week of wearing no shirt, Charlie starts walking around the tent without trousers.

He’s still wearing underwear, but Rolf very determinedly does not look. He knows Charlie’s interested in men. He has it on good authority that Charlie fucked several of their (male) schoolmates. He knows Charlie wouldn’t react adversely.

At most, Charlie would turn him down, politely and gently.

But he’s not going to do it. 

He remains fully clothed, for his part.

Except shoes. He doesn’t wear shoes in the tent if he can help it, and neither does Charlie. (Which is a relief, really; some people have a problem with it).

* * *

He gets out of the shower one night to find Charlie absolutely stark naked. 

Charlie Weasley naked is something Rolf has spent (mostly in his teen years, but, admittedly, also more recently) a not inconsiderable amount of time thinking about. His initial gut reaction is surprise that he’s somehow more gorgeous than he’d ever expected.

And he has  _ so _ many more freckles. In places Rolf wasn’t even sure people  _ got _ freckles. (His, for his own part, are mostly on his face, with a few on his arms and legs).

Rolf isn’t sure if this is a come on, or what, but he knows he should address it.

“Er…?” he says eloquently.

Charlie looks over at him, then down at himself (and he is  _ naked! _ Rolf’s not sure he’ll ever think that goyishe men’s cocks look  _ normal, _ but he has to admit that Charlie has a nice one – not that he’s staring). “Oh! I waited a bit too long to do laundry, and – well, I reckoned might as well do it all at once.”

Rolf forces his gaze – well, not to meet Charlie’s, but to a convenient spot over Charlie’s left shoulder, which usually looks close enough to eye contact for most people to not question it. “I see.”

“If it’s a problem, I’m sure I can summon something.”

“No,” Rolf says. “No problem. We’re both adults. It’s hardly as if I’ve never seen a naked man before.”

Charlie makes a sound that might be a wistful sigh. “I was too closeted for most of school to truly appreciate the boys’ Quidditch changing rooms…”

Rolf laughs in spite of himself. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Wouldn’t know about being closeted or wouldn’t know about Quidditch changing rooms?”

“Both? Either?” He shrugs. “Both of my parents are bi, too, and – well, no one in my family’s heterosexual. My sister’s bi, and she’s married to a woman. Coming out was never really something I needed to do until Hogwarts, and I was quite upfront about it all from the beginning.”

“Oh,” Charlie says. He furrows his brows. “Wait, does – does your family include your grandfather?”

“In the sense that my grandfather is a member of my family, and also in the sense that he’s bisexual, yes.”

_ “Oh. _ I mean – not that I would – he’s brilliant, but he’s an old man. It’s more… that’s another thing in common with him, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Rolf agrees.

“Though I obviously think of you as much more than – than Newt Scamander’s grandson. Or – your relationship to any of your family, really.”

“Thanks,” Rolf says. “I didn’t think you did only view me as his grandson, though, for the record.”

“Good,” Charlie says with a smile.

* * *

When he and Charlie do end up fucking, there’s no pretense about laundry or boredom, and it’s better than Rolf expected.

When Rolf gets out of bed to sit alone on the sofa until his nerves calm down, Charlie wordlessly follows him out and sits six inches away. “Is this all right?”

“Absolutely,” Rolf agrees. He knows he doesn’t have to; he doesn’t think Charlie will argue, but he continues, “I just can’t stand to be touched after sex. Feels like my nerves are on fire. It does go away after a bit, but – those tiny bunk beds are a world of difference from my bed at home.”

“Would it help if I transfigured it to one bigger bed?”

Rolf can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “Sorry?”

“I assume you normally prefer to, y’know, just scoot away? Though if this is your normal ritual, far be it from me to interfere.”

“No, you're right. When I’m at home I – just take a bit of distance in the actual physical bed.”

“I still feel pretty awake right now, but I’ve got a feeling that won’t always be the case, so it’s really no trouble to fix the beds into one larger bed.”

“You don’t mind?” Rolf asks.

“Not at all. Do you?”

“No,” Rolf says.

Charlie winks at him. “I’ll be right back, then.”

He stands up, hesitates briefly, almost as if he wants to kiss him, but ultimately walks back into the bedroom. True to his word, a few minutes later, he sticks his head out and calls, “You can come back now.”

The double bed makes the room a bit more cramped, but it’s manageable. Rolf lays down on the soft sheets and – yes, this is much better than sitting on the slightly scratchy sofa. Charlie eases himself on the bed, careful not to touch him.

“Since you did say you can’t be touched for a bit – well, two things. First, please don’t think that I’m not… satisfied or interested in doing this again.”

Rolf nods. “And second?”

“You’re going to have to tell me when you’re all right for me to touch you again. If you want me to.”

“I  _ do _ like cuddling,” Rolf says. 

Charlie smiles. “Good. So do I.”

Rolf takes in Charlie then – every inch of him, from his gorgeous red hair to his soft smile to his gloriously naked and freckled body. “Though I can think of some things I’d rather do first.”


End file.
